


Ghost out of his grave

by lungfish



Category: Yu-Gi-Oh!
Genre: Angst, M/M, Tendershipping, Witchcraft, i guess?
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-06-18
Updated: 2016-06-18
Packaged: 2018-07-15 21:23:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 669
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7239028
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lungfish/pseuds/lungfish
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ryou becomes aware of the spirit Yami Bakura's presence and tries to banish him.<br/>Needless to say, he is unsuccessful.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Ghost out of his grave

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first ever attempt at actually trying to write something.  
> I'm not very happy with it but I hope someone out there can enjoy it!

_So, you can finally hear me, huh?_

  “Sea salt, rosemary, powdered eggshell, black pepper, cayenne pepper, angelica…I ought to have enough to make this work.” Muttering under his breath, Ryou sat, mortar and pestle in hand, making what he hoped would now be a strong enough spell to remove the presence that had settled in his house.

_Delusional? Well, I can work with that._

  “Where’d I put the bloodroot? Vervain will do…should’ve made more black salt than this...”  
Ryou’s house had been haunted before – spirits often followed him back from the graveyard and took up residence in the dark corners of his home. He had never minded until now, they brought a sense of comfort, dispelling the loneliness. The usual footsteps, the occasional moving object...never before had they been this intrusive.  
  
  Throat burning as he chanted words he barely understood, Ryou sat, his body trembling. Various candles had formed melted puddles of wax as the wicks had burned down, sticking to the various occult books scattered on the floor. Muslin bags and jars filled with various charms were placed strategically, every mirror had been covered, and various sigils on post-it-notes layered the walls. The EVP recorder was not picking up anything, but he could still hear the disembodied voice quite clearly:

 _Hey -_  
_Ryou._  
_If your spells and charms actually worked, wouldn’t that sister of yours still be alive?_

  “Enough!” Tears welled up in his eyes but he shook his head, ignoring the voice and trying to steady his shuddering breaths.  
 Staggering to his feet, he emptied the mortar, scattering its contents in various directions whilst reading the crumpled page in his hand – Latin spells, he’d never used Latin before – hoping that he’d succeed and the weight in his mind would lessen so he could breathe again. Focusing on the words on the page before him was becoming a much harder task as his tears blurred his vision, nausea tying a tight knot in his stomach and threatening to send him reeling to the floor.

_Let’s stop making a mess, shall we? Not to be cliché, but we could do this the easy way, or the hard way. But that’s dependent on you._

“Where are you?” Ryou cried, dropping the now empty mortar on the floor with a dull thud. Sniffing as he rubbed his eyes – the paper he’d been holding had smudged now, there was no way to read it – he glanced around his room, trying to find the location of the voice.

_Take a look in the mirror._

Tentatively stepping towards the covered mirror on his desk, Ryou ripped the cover off. Scared red rimmed eyes stared back at him before he saw his own reflection morph, saw himself grin and raise a long finger slowly to his forehead, where it tapped several times.

_See? I’m in here._

Ryou wanted to scream. He shook his head slowly and took a few steps backwards, watching his reflection obstinately refuse to mimic him, instead remaining perfectly still. Out of the mirror, cold, pale hands began to reach out for him, clasping at his throat and squeezing.

“S-stop,” the pressure on his throat made his voice sound weaker, even more pathetic than usual. “I, you-” He grasped at thin air when he made attempts to remove the hands from his throat, his movements becoming more and more violent as he realised with horror that _he couldn’t breathe_.

His head echoed with a sick kind of laughter, reverberating inside his skull as he struggled. Tears began to stream down his face as he clawed desperately for something physical to hold onto, feeling his knees begin to buckle beneath him. Eyes rolling back into his skull, Ryou’s body became slack before the pressure around his throat disappeared and he crumpled to the floor.

His last thought as he watched the ceiling blur; sickening shades of green and mauve, orange and pink, was that he must have deserved this somehow.

And at that last thought, he stopped putting up a fight.


End file.
